


Wildcat

by orphan_account



Series: The Shin Tokyo Continuity [2]
Category: Prince of Tennis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-07
Updated: 2005-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:40:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marui tests Kirihara's Immune capacities.  AU (see series: Shin Tokyo Continuity)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildcat

Bunta concentrated; stared at the wall through eyes narrowed to slits, felt how the materialness of the room seemed to rush through him - air, convection currents, water vapour, nitrogen, all weaving themselves into familiar artificial patterns.

Tried to connect the shape to a dark head of curly hair leaning against scarlet leather, and the spell dissipated, collapsed into a chaos of elements, molecules spreading and realigning with thermodynamics, much to Bunta’s dismay.

“Had your fun yet?” Akaya said in a bored voice. He was sixteen years old this autumn, grown mysterious with long tanned limbs and catlike hostility – a wildcat, one of those sibilant, ferocious creatures that haunted the mountains of the Romani Republic, the ones that bit first, asked questions later, and scratched you to pieces in-between.

They’d known from the day Akaya arrived at their doorstep, that he was anything but a tame kitten, Bunta thought. “One and a half metres in every direction. That’s the extent of your Immunity. I’m getting some activity at one metre, but nothing I can consciously control.”

“And if _you_ can’t manage it, no one should be able to, right?”

“There is no telekinetic in Kantou better than myself,” Bunta said simply. Akaya yawned and stretched out his entire body – contours of muscle and clothing shifting gracefully, fingers raking the leather sofa.

“What about Fuji Syuusuke?” he asked.

They were all the best at what they did, each in his own way – though even among the Eight, Akaya’s battle technique was outstanding: fluidity and motion and attack, attack, attack, with eyes that seemed to hate the whole world, except Yukimura but then none of them could really hate Yukimura, although they’d all tried at some point.

If Akaya liked blood too much, was a little too fond of toying with his opponents, - well then, he wasn’t the only one. Yagyuu, also – for that matter, Yanagi--

They all had their own problems.

“What about Fuji?” He examined a jade ashtray perched above the fireplace, filled with what looked like brightly-wrapped chocolates. Jackal had bought them, which meant they should be safe enough. “In terms of precision control, he’s still less capable than I am. Anyway, Yukimura will finish him off sooner or later.”

“Maybe we should kill him before then.” It would be a mercy; whatever Akaya and Bunta could do, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as nasty as their president’s exploits.

It was not really Yukimura’s fault – but then Bunta had long since moved past the point where he could blame Yukimura for anything.

In that way he envied Akaya, who moved in a glorious, willful world of his own, who still seemed to understand the difference between ‘Rikkai’ and ‘Yukimura’ and ‘myself’, whereas for Bunta it had all gotten mixed up a long time ago; there was no telling where he himself ended and Yukimura began - or where Rikkai was meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

> (timeline 2468/2469 CE)


End file.
